The Omen
by AsianScaper
Summary: Set right after Episode II. Anakin Skywalker catches a glimpse of his future through a most unusual looking glass while he broods on problems of fear and responsibility. *Please R&R*


**Title:** _The Omen_   
**Author:** AsianScaper   
**Disclaimer:** Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, I should think. I know I certainly don't.   
**Rating:** G   
**Category:** Drama   
**Feedback:** Friends, enemies: Send your comments, insights, or constructive criticism to asianscaper@edsamail.com.ph   
**Summary:** Anakin Skywalker starts reflecting when a mysterious stranger gives him critical advice and a notion of what is to come. Set somewhere between Episodes II and III.   
**Spoilers:** None that I know of...unless Darth Vader isn't Anakin Skywalker to you. Hehe.   
**Archiving:** Permission granted to those who ask. Politely, mind you.   
**Dedication:** To George Lucas and his terrific crew, for all the pain and effort you put into this incredible epic, putting it into a form which entices the soul.   
**Author's Note:** It's very short, very to the point and definitely a rushed job. =P Let's just say it's a product of Episode II's magic. Hope you like it! 

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The carcass that folly ate lay pondering upon its own demise. After all, it was a slow departure from the world of men. What lay beyond the weir demanded the harsh enmity of the dead. Here stood the fellow of death's tavern, clothed in black and beginning to beg the air for forgiveness; oh, all else had denied him such. Seated as he was, with a back bent upon the soulless singes of his drink and heavy breath finding vice in the smoke of the lounge, his stare commanded inaction from those around him. 

The patrons were paralyzed unto their seats and masquerades, for his eyes drank the deity of darkness and commanded their fears. 

"Sir, another drink perhaps?" 

The stranger, who asked met blue within blue embedded upon an empty face, entirely bereft of light's enduring spectacle. "No. Leave me…in peace." The word last uttered became a lingering whisper of discontent. 

Despite his threatening appearance and for all the signs about him that suggested at beings wishing to be as far away as possible, one cloaked man decided to take the empty seat. Of course, the seat seemed as full as it once was when the brooding fellow demanded it of his pose. "What bothers you, young Padawan? You seem entirely prudish, miserable, and absolutely incensed." He chuckled. "So tell me, Skywalker, what ails your inner insides. Hmmm?" 

Ocean marauders that dwelled within Anakin's eyes brewed a violent storm. "Ah-ah, young Padawan. Not that look, mind you. A master meets your gaze. Calm yourself." A pause, then, "Emotions lead you, as oft they have. Control them. That much a Padawan can do." Soft intonations crowned in a gentle voice eased the weather and soon, the young Padawan was staring righteously into a face of cheerful proportions. "It's good to have you back!" the Jedi Master proclaimed, wagging an eyebrow in greeting. 

"My deepest apologies, Master. Though I see that you are quite young." 

"Oh, no one is 'quite young' these days, young Anakin. We are all part of a world bent upon keeping the young ones as senile as possible." The Jedi Master was artless, seen in the way his hands mourned the loss of leaf and bark to reinforced steel. He fingered the table in a manner that suggested at strength far more superior to alloys for they sprang and sprinted to a trill of desperate training. A fair understanding of the world plagued his youthful hands. They were light in their deliberations and imprinted but a moment of heat to all he touched. 

"I hear you're a man of many words," the Master continued. "And bothers bequeath a man with silence. Yours is a deafening sort. Crimes, though, entail a shroud." The Master's gaze included Anakin's black cloak, which embraced his figure like a mantle unto a pyre. "And none could be hid forever." 

"Master, I'd much rather be left alone." 

"Do you think me obtuse?" the Master demanded though his tone did not require an answer. "I thought not. I wish to avail of your company and you will give it." It was a beguiling smile, which declared wisdom to the lips used wholly in duty and service. His gaze was a deep violet, swirling amidst the hues of night as the lights within the lounge dimmed and brightened to music well devised. They were valiant in depth and betrayed a deep homage to truth. 

That alone made the Padawan weak with the knots of his tongue. "Of course, Master. What do you wish to know?" 

"You tell me, Skywalker." 

Anakin kept silent for a while and seeing his reluctance so blatantly expressed, the Jedi Master said, "Young one, before grievances are placed, perhaps you should know where you are to place them. I am Lear Ranzene of the Jedi Order. Though my place here shall be forgotten once you speak, all else is a matter of faith." Another smile disarmed Anakin's chagrin. 

Anakin, despite the many chains that clung to his ability of gestures when dealing with those of the Order, began to express the shadow of a doubt. 

_Amidala…_

_Responsibility…_

_Fear…_

"We are not all the same, Skywalker," the Jedi explained, in a voice, which did not tire either him or his listener. "A Jedi's objective is a singular thing, left undivided by those who share it. Yet the paths are many and some roads stray from a common highway, sometimes into an artery, which we Jedi do not maintain." 

Discomfort shifted Anakin's position as the Jedi Master studied him with a guileless motion of sight. Those violet eyes glittered with insight and improved with the melange of other worlds. "I can see the fleeting image of fury devising a way to ease in you. Do not let your wrath use you." Sighing softly, the Jedi continued, "Love's one thing though anger makes one deliver love to pain." 

"I do not understand," Anakin said. 

"You do not understand at this embryonic age. But someday, once the universe demands compassion of you, you will see the course you have already chosen end in a most unlikely end." The Jedi stood, still smiling in that obscene fashion where knowledge laughed at ignorance. "Though it shall be an end fitting for one who loves so much." Thereupon his wistful look was a mark of true pity and greater respect. 

Taking a glass once offered by a passing host, Lear Ranzene lifted it in Anakin's honor for a toast. He brought it to his lips, drank, and placed it before the apprentice. 

"The Force be with you, Padawan. You were born with it and so shall you die for it." 

The Padawan was too beleaguered to respond and before he could lift his own drink; the Jedi Master had gone, disappearing like a thief into the night. 

"Odd fellow," Anakin whispered to himself, yet knowing beneath the folds of this world's sight, that what the Jedi Master had told him was true. 

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**-The End-**


End file.
